Wishy Washy

Why is it, or does it seem soo hard to be what I want to be as far as my church membership goes?

Maybe I’m just too critical of myself; expectations unrealistic.

I joined the LDS church in 1984. This August will make it 35 years ago….


Just yesterday

My missionaries were Elders Flinders (Detroit) & Lercher (Arkansas)

Holy fire….

I remember the fire of that week.

I was ready for the fire of JESUS!

I’d been ready for a while; plus I was susceptible to most anything.

Super immature, pathologically naïve…..

Hungry for direction or answers; no telling what I was thinking back then.

There was a girl involved too, I won’t lie. But, even now I know that I didn’t join for her.

I was raised in the Baptist south.

Bible on the coffee table, next to full ashtrays and half empty glasses of iced tea; beer & potluck at Sunday services next to the cemetery, out back of the church.

Kids running thru glaring tombstones in that Georgia summer heat, men standing around in their sweaty shirts and Kmart slacks, smoking & sipping a cold beer, the ladies fussing after the running and screaming kids and popping the tops on Tupperware while the bass guitar and drums from across the road at the black folks church gave us funky spiritual background noise.

Almost yesterday….

Then, I moved to Utah.

Well, lots of stuff happened between those past Sundays and Utah but, I’m not gonna rehash it again.

I’ve already blogged about those years and that particular horse is dead.

I was dead from 1999 until 2005….man, was I dead.

If y’all wanna know the gory details, you’ll have to look for them on your own.

I’m done with those memories.

Like I was saying, I joined the LDS church in 1984.

I was 19

I was in love.

I was on drugs more than alcohol back then but, I tried to sneak it every so often. Pouring beer into my refillable mug….

Don’t really know why I was on dope so hard after I got to Utah….no idea.

It just happened and I couldn’t shake it.


Marriage/Temple 1985

Police Academy. 1986

3 kids. 1985,1987,1989

Divorce. 1991

Spiraling out of control but, still somewhat cognizant of my surroundings and the increasing inability to stay sober.

Jail. 1999






It was terrible.

I lost everything.

I was in the metaphorical backseat of a crazy driver….

Helpless to control him.

No, I don’t care how much y’all say that you are the master of your destiny, you can control things….blah blah blah

No. No you can’t.

Sometimes, it gets away from you.

There is absolutely no way I can explain to you the compulsions and impulsiveness of an addictive mind.

There was no way out, it had to run its course.

Highway to hell or pathway to eternal life; albeit a pathway cluttered with the debris and detritus of shattered dreams and hearts but, nonetheless, a pathway; no end.

I have not died yet.

I continue to struggle with my monsters. I am gaining the upper hand.

I am much better at recognizing the warning signs and have acquired knowledge on how to circumvent them.


So far, so good; today.

That’s what you do. Worry about today.

I know me, you see.

Every minute of every day is a battle.

Non-stop freaking battle.

You can forgive yourself but, no one else will.

Because, they know you too….

Sad thing is, you can’t really blame them.

Bad as I hate it.

As much as I repent.

As hard as I try

I will never get past my past. Not in my head, at least.

Because, to me…..in this head….?

I am unforgivable.

I am the lowest of the low.

I faced my demons and lost, for a very long time.

I lost everything.

I will keep trying, though.

I have no choice.

See, I believe in all this Mormon stuff.

I believe that HF has a plan for me.

I wish he’d tell me but, he likes to torture me I think…

Not bad torture, funny ha ha torture.

Anyways, I honestly believe HF knows best and besides, its best to blame him for anything bad that happens; it’s my Catch 22…

I blame him for the good stuff, too and HEY! I can also honestly say that I don’t deserve anything good but, he persists in his plan for me so, what can I do?

Him being the supreme deity and all….

Trust in God.

It’s all his fault.

Endure to the end.

Saints are sinners that never quit trying.

5 thoughts on “Wishy Washy”

  1. Hey Trey! Have you been away from the blogosphere as long as I more or less have, or have I just had really bad timing and missed all your posts when I come back to read?

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